Heart Stain
by JerichoholicAnonymous
Summary: Seth is a clumsy barista who just had to spill coffee on his only customer of the day. It certainly doesn't help that said customer is also extremely attractive. AU one-shot.


_Here's a fluffy Ambrollins AU for your reading pleasure! If you enjoy it, please leave me a review and make my day!_

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It was a freezing weekend day in Cincinnati. Seth was just about shaking in his boots, even in the heated coffeeshop he worked at. He could see the snow tumbling down from the window, the ground covered by a layer of white. Somehow, it made him shiver even more. For a six foot tall man, with rippling muscle on his bones, Seth sure was sensitive to the cold.

The streets were empty, as was the coffeeshop, and it was a telltale sign that people had the right idea by staying in. People were probably bundled up in their blankets, pressed against their loved one, enjoying a couple of days off in the warmth of their home. However, Seth didn't have the luxury of staying in during the weekend and watching the snowfall from his house instead of his workplace. He got called in by his manager because, coincidentally, everyone else decided to call in sick. And since he was relatively new to the job, he couldn't afford to pass up the extra money, let alone turn down the boss.

Not to mention he had no loved one to press up against.

Seth couldn't stop the shake of his hands, hands that were as cold as the ice outside. The steam coming out of the frother wasn't enough to put a stop to it. Seth considered himself lucky that he'd tended to no customers that day. But as swiftly as that thought passed through his head, his luck ran out, and the bell over the door chimed.

A tall man in a grey woollen beanie walked up to the counter. In a last, desperate attempt to stabilize his hands, he rubbed them against his black apron, briefly looking up at his customer, whose face was halfway covered by a thick, matching grey scarf.

"Good afternoon, what can I get for you?"

"One large Americano, please."

"Name?" Seth asked, picking up a new paper cup from the stack, his fingertips positively numb.

"Dean." The muffled voice responded.

Seth managed to scribble down the name on the cup and got started on the coffee, wanting to get it over with as quickly and hitch-free as possible. Brewing the espresso was a relatively short process, and Seth was relieved to be surrounded by steam, the blood flowing a bit more freely through his hands. A couple of minutes later, the Americano was ready and poured into the cup. As Seth turned around to pass the order over the counter, his hands faltered, the cup jiggling in his hands for an excruciatingly painful second before spilling over on his customer. Seth never wanted a thunderbolt to strike down on him more than in that moment.

"Motherfu-"

"Shit! Oh shit! Oh God! I'm so sorry!"

Seth scrambled around to find the nearest dry rag, rushing around the counter and over to Dean. He crouched down and pressed the rag where the scorching hot coffee stained his sweatpants, right on his left thigh. It was most probably inappropriate, but Dean didn't do anything to push him off, only squirming at the pressure put on the inflamed skin.

"I'm so sorry, I'm so bad at this, fuck..."

"It's fine..."

Seth looked up, finding in his line of vision a pair of bright blue eyes staring down at him. The scarf that was once covering Dean's face had loosened up, letting way to a face so handsome that Seth could feel his own cheeks redden even more than they already had. That Dean guy was hot, so damn hot, and his palm was spread all over his thigh, and Seth felt like he could die of embarrassment right there and then. The chill that stuck to his bones earlier was now long forgotten.

He hadn't noticed that his eyes had been momentarily stuck on Dean's face. With a gruff cough, Seth looked down back at the wet stain on his customer's pants, realizing that the rag couldn't absorbe any more of the coffee. His mind was alit, trying to find a solution out of the predicament he'd gotten himself in.

"I've got a clean pair of sweatpants in the back." Seth suggested, straightening up and pointing behind the counter. "Come with me and I'll give 'em to you."

"That won't be needed, man. It's cool."

"No, no, really. I insist. It's already cold as rocks outside and I don't need 'em."

Not having no for an answer, Seth led him to the lockers through the door reserved for personnel. He was grateful that none of his coworkers were here, meaning there was no need to sneak Dean in.

"Won't you get in trouble for this?"

"Only if my manager or my colleagues were in. Which they're not. I'm kinda the new kid on the block, so I get stuck with the shifts that nobody wants..."

"S'pose I shouldn't come back and file a complain against you when he's in, then?"

Seth winced at the thought of getting the living hell scolded out of him, pleadingly shaking his head in disagreement. "I'd be grateful if you didn't."

He rummaged through his locker and pulled out the fresh change of sweatpants, handing it over to Dean, who had stood right in front of him. He was even more gorgeous up close. Seth was having a particularly tough time of not being distracted, of not melting away into total goo. Seth's breath hiccuped for a second, having to will his gaze away from the captivating blue eyes that'd been focused on him.

"Bathroom's over there if you...want, or whatever. I'll be just be outside. I'll clean up the mess and make you another cup of coffee."

For a man who'd gotten coffee poured all over him and who'd probably been running late as a result, Dean looked particularly amused, slight dimples appearing and Seth had to physically leave the room before throwing himself onto a stranger and pushing him against the nearest wall like he was very much tempted to.

Seth swiftly mopped the floor and swept away a puddle of liquid from the counter before getting started on his customer's coffee. Just as he slipped the cardboard sleeve onto the cup, Dean walked out from behind him, his stained sweatpants draped on his forearm. Seth rushed to pull out a paper bag to drop Dean's sweatpants in. He noticed Dean fishing in the righthand pocket of his jacket for his wallet, which Seth contested on the spot.

"It's on the house."

Dean waived him off. "Dude, it's fine. We all fuck up."

Seth wouldn't have any of Dean's compassion or pity, though. "It's the least I can do. Not to mention I owe you a laundry bill."

Dean chuckled, a short, raspy little sound that got Seth weak in the knees. "You really don't have to."

"Nah, I do," Seth insisted. "Come back anytime so I can pay ya."

Dean squinted, quizzically studying Seth's face for an unnerving moment. The effortless roll of Dean's shoulders led Seth to believe that he'd given up the fight.

"Ah, well. Think it'd be easier if you just paid up at the laundromat itself. It's just down the road from here."

Seth couldn't help but be disappointed by the implication that Dean was reluctant to pass by again, even though he knew his reluctance was justified. He would've hoped that the blond could look past the incident, if only to see him again for a minute.

"Sure. No problem."

"Think you could lend me a pen and paper so I could write ya the correct address? Just to avoid any confusion." Dean asked, scratching his forehead in the most frustratingly endearing way possible.

"Of course," Seth complied, tearing a piece of blank paper from the billing machine and sliding over a pen.

Dean got to scribbling while Seth looked down at his shoes, lips firmly pursed as he couldn't help but nurse a feeling of disappointment. The click of the pencil cap brought Seth back to reality as he retrieved the piece of paper he'd given out.

"Thanks, _Seth_." The barista's cheeks went aflame. Not only did Dean bother to memorize the name tag - which, after an embarrassing encounter like the one they'd had, was only fitting - but the roll of his name on this stranger's tongue was delicious and infuriating all at once. Seth wanted to rip the follicles out of his scalp.

"Sorry for any inconvenience I've caused you," Seth answered, deeming it to be a more professional reaction.

Dean's amusement was rearing its head again. The little smirk on his face was laced with what Seth could swear to be mischief.

"Don't worry 'bout it. Have a good day, Seth."

"You too," Seth murmured, watching his now former customer walking out of the shop. He exhaled the sigh that'd been buried deep in his lungs for several minutes, cursing the terrible luck that'd been bestowed upon him all fucking day.

He grudgingly picked up the piece of paper Dean had left him. His eyes boggled wide open at the sight of a ten-digit number and a note written underneath it. Any despair he might've felt mere seconds ago turned into a furious blush that stained his cheeks and excitement that pumped through his blood.

" _You can pay me back by taking me on a date instead._

 _\- Dean._ "


End file.
